This is me.

"Why are you so quiet?"

People sit next to me 

they give me a smile.

Then goes the question

"Why are you quiet?"

The question that was asked, not really amusing at all

But even after being asked the same thing over the years,

I had no answer.

I stared at them and gave them a smile,

Because they, unlike those people in high school, were actually nice people.

Or maybe I thought so, liked to think so,

Naïve little me thought the same foolish thought every passing year

In middle and high school,

Only to be hurt again, along with my expectations.

I started to come up with excuses I thought would suffice.

"I don't know", "I like listening", followed by a shrug

But the truth was,

I was so used to not having friends after a year,

When I finally do, I have no idea what to do with them.

They don't deserve this, but I wish they knew

Why I am like this. Sometimes I wonder why I'm like this, too.

I feel like I'm a broken pot recast in iron.

I am stronger, but defensive towards people who actually mean well.

They don't know that I was blamed and cursed for my very existence

By the people who made my schooling a living hell.

My friends won't understand why I'm distancing from them, running away,

Because I don't want to get hurt again.

I feel like every smile, every laugh with a friend brings closeness, and

I'm scared of the closeness because whenever it happened, it resulted in pain.

And I don't want to get hurt again.